


Truth And Consequence

by graciecon



Series: Truth and Consequence [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:38:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graciecon/pseuds/graciecon
Summary: Steve had not intended to fall in love with the new girl. Being Captain America was a full-time job and didn’t usually leave room for romance. But here he was, eight months into the worst infatuation he’d ever experienced and having a difficult time concealing it. Now Steve has a decision to make: come clean or find some way to keep his feelings secret…





	1. Chapter 1

Thirty-six weeks. Eight months. 

Y/N had been with them since just after the collapse of SHIELD. She’d come directly to Stark, knowing if anything could protect her from the fallout, Tony Stark’s team of lawyers would be it. Tony had hired her immediately, putting her to work under Maria Hill. When construction of the Avenger’s compound had completed, he’d offered a chance to work with the Avengers themselves and who was she to pass something like that up?

She’d fit in with the team easily. She’d been with SHIELD for years, had trained under some of the best agents, and was good at what she did. She was friendly and funny and insanely pretty and for 8 months Steve Rogers had been desperately infatuated with her. 

It wasn’t like he’d wanted to fall in love with her. He’d meant it when he repeatedly told Nat that he was too busy to pursue a relationship. Relationships required dedicated time, a luxury he didn’t have an abundance of while he was saving the world from aliens, or murder robots, or his brainwashed assassin-best friend. He’d been content to keep to himself, with the exception of kissing Sharon after she’d helped him get his gear back during his “war” with Tony. They’d gone out a few times after that, but with Steve constantly on missions, things had fizzled out quickly. 

And then there’d been Y/N. She’d moved into the compound with them a few weeks after she’d accepted Tony’s offer to join and at first, things had been easy. She flowed well, knew how to take direction and how to give it when needed. She was a tactical expert and Steve took to consulting her when he planned out their missions. That evolved into Y/N becoming Steve’s favorite sparring partner. He’d been worried about hurting her but she gave as good as she got and never complained. Eventually, strategizing and sparring turned into late night movie marathons (Y/N insisted Steve watch all of The Lord of the Rings and Hobbit movies in order) when neither of them could sleep and outings on their mutual quest to find the best milkshake joint in New York (Bucky often tagged along for these). It happened gradually, almost unnoticeably until one day Steve was watching her make sandwiches for Sam and Bucky, laughing and teasing them about their “bro-mance” and suddenly his chest was tight and his throat was dry and his heart rate had accelerated almost painfully and since he was fairly sure he wasn’t having an asthma attack (since he hadn’t had one in seventy-five years) he realized with a pang there was only one reason his body was reacting so intensely. 

He’d spent the better part of the eight months that followed, trying to somehow disengage himself from the feeling. He tried finding flaw with the things he usually found endearing about her which worked about as well as his attempt to “date the pain away” (Sam’s suggestion). He resisted going to his best friend for help, telling himself that if there was anyone less equipped to give relationship advice than Steve, it was Bucky. He made a concerted effort to completely ignore Y/N’s presence when Natasha and Wanda were around, worried his face (or thoughts) would give him away. 

The harder he tried to push the feelings away, the more they seemed to push back. He found his dreams inundated with her, dreams about walking with her through Central Park hand in hand or about kissing her in the rain, in the training room, in one of Tony’s ridiculous cars—basically anywhere his mind could construct. There were other dreams too, different dreams, hotter dreams. Steve was unaccustomed to not being in control of his body but when those dreams took root, he felt like a thirteen-year old boy scrambling to cover up his shame from his mother. 

It was this development that made him finally decide to confer with Bucky. There was no one else he trusted with something as personal as wet dreams (Steve scoffed mentally at the thought) and despite the endless teasing he was sure to endure, he knew Bucky could be counted on to keep his peace. 

He found Bucky sitting at the kitchen counter, digging into a bowl of cereal. Bucky was mildly infatuated with the mass amounts of sugary foods available in the twenty-first century. It looked like today’s drug of choice was Lucky Charms. Steve smiled to himself. 

“Hey, Buck.”

Bucky barely spared Steve a glance, scooping a heaping spoonful of cereal into his mouth then lifting the bowl to gulp down the sugar-milk left behind. He set the bowl down, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“’Sup, Steve?”

Steve shook his head, mildly amused. Bucky was spending way too much time with Clint and Sam. 

“I need your, um…well…your advice,” Steve hesitated with the words, knowing Bucky would immediately be on red alert at Steve coming to him for any kind of advice. Generally, Steve was the one giving advice, warranted or not. 

“My advice, huh?” Bucky grinned. “Whatcha do?”

Steve frowned. “Do? I didn’t do anything.” Steve sighed, pulling out a stool and sitting down. “Look, I really need your help with something, erm, sensitive and I need you to keep this between us. Can you do that?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, ‘course, Steve-o,” Bucky said, concern in his voice. “What’s up?”

Steve bit his lip. “Well, it’s about a girl.”

“Y/N.”

Steve blinked. “H-how did you—did Sam tell you?”

Bucky laughed. “No. It’s pretty obvious, Steve. At least to me. I haven’t seen you blush the way you do when she walks in a room since the last double date we went on in 1943.”

Steve grimaced and leaned forward, dropping his head in his hands. “Do you think it’s obvious to Y/N?” he asked, his voice muffled. Bucky leaned over and ruffled Steve’s hair playfully, a habit he’d adopted seventy-five years ago. Some parts of Bucky’s memory returning were more curses than blessings, Steve thought sullenly. 

“So is it serious or is it just a crush?” Bucky was saying, watching Steve with interest.

“I’m—it’s serious,” Steve muttered. “That’s the problem. It’s gotten very serious. I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s bad enough when I’m awake, but now my dreams—”

“—Have gotten substantially wetter?” Bucky finished, his grin splitting his face dangerously. Steve groaned. 

“Unfortunately.”

“So are you gonna tell her?”

Steve stared at Bucky as if he’d lost his mind. Again. 

“Tell her what? That I’m having nocturnal emissions that heavily feature her?”

Bucky snorted. “Jeez, Steve. ‘Nocturnal emissions’? You’re horny and repressed and in love with her, so just tell her how you feel and get laid. It’s not rocket science, although I’m sure we could get Stark to explain it to you.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“And I won’t,” Bucky said solemnly, though his grin was still fixed in place. “But you should.”

“I can’t, Buck.”

“Because?”

Steve sighed in frustration. “Because I’m Captain America more than I’m Steve Rogers. And I can’t start a relationship I don’t have time to participate in. No matter how much I want to. It wouldn’t be fair to her. How many times can I miss a date because of a mission before it starts to become a problem? How many missed birthdays or anniversaries will it take before she accuses me of choosing the shield over her? It’s too much, Bucky. She deserves someone with the time to dedicate to her.”

Bucky was shaking his head throughout Steve’s speech, his arms crossed over his chest. “You done? All your excuses out?” he said, when Steve took a breath.

Steve glared at Bucky, balling his hands into fists. “They’re not excuses, Bucky! You don’t think I’d have made a move if this wasn’t an issue? I—”

“—No, I don’t,” Bucky interrupted, his tone feigning casual. “I don’t honestly think you would have made a move because you are the king of waiting too long. You did it with Peggy, with the other Carter girl. You’re scared, Steve. You may be Captain fucking America, but you’re also still scared-shitless-of-women Steve Rogers.”

Bucky stood from his stool, kicking it back into its place beneath the counter. 

“My advice is that you soldier up, super-soldier. Tell Y/N how you feel. Stop making excuses. You fight for everyone else, but never for yourself. Even when you were fighting Stark, you were fighting for me. Tell her the truth and stop waiting for your happiness to happen and go get it.” Bucky began to walk away, hands shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie but he paused and turned back to Steve with a smirk. “Or get used to jerking off.”

Steve watched him saunter away, his hands still fists at his side. It wasn’t so much that Bucky was wrong. It was that he’d never called Steve on it before, that Steve had gone to Bucky expecting sympathy and instead got—

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts waging war inside it. He was no stranger to the school of tough love and he knew Bucky had made several valid points, but Steve still couldn’t bring himself to consider telling Y/N the truth. He would just have to deal with the problematic dreams and hope they eventually faded away.

 

Of course, things like that do not actually fade away. Two weeks later, Steve felt like he was walking around in a haze of sexual energy. He’d had a sex dream nearly every night that week and was beginning to feel like his penis would never return to a normal position again. He’d begged Tony and Hill to find him a mission under the pretense of being “cooped up” for too long but there was nothing important enough going on to warrant Captain America making an appearance. Steve supposed he should be grateful that the world was under no serious threat but his forced sexual repression was starting to become unbearable. 

Telling Y/N how he felt was still grossly out of the question as far as Steve was concerned, especially considering he didn’t trust himself to speak around her much lately. His only other option kept coming back to him in the form of Bucky’s voice as he’d thrown the suggestion over his shoulder: Get used to jerking off.

It wasn’t so much that Steve disapproved of masturbation (plenty of his recent dreams had involved Y/N with her hands on herself while Steve watched) but that he had never done it much to feel comfortable with it as an alternative to actual sexual contact. That, and his Catholic upbringing and the thought of his mother rolling in her grave at the idea of her son defiling himself before God made him queasy just thinking about it. 

Still, he had suffered through two weeks of unrelenting sexual tension created by his own subconscious and Steve was willing to try anything at this point. He lay on his bed, thoughts swirling around his most recent nocturnal escapade with Y/N, hand rubbing his growing erection through the fabric of his sweatpants. His tilted his head back and shut his eyes, hoping to block out everything but the image of Y/N, sprawled on his comforter, her legs spread. He could see how wet she was, her body’s way of telling him she was ready for him. Steve groaned quietly and pulled his cock from his pants, using the pre-come beading at the top to swipe his hand down its length. The friction felt so good and he bucked his hips into his own hand, biting his lip as he let his imagination carry him. 

He imagined kissing her, pressing his mouth down on hers, parting her lips with his tongue. He could hear her moan in his head as he slid his hands down to her breasts, cupping the soft, supple flesh. His real hand gripped the shaft of his cock, smoothing his fist down to the base and then back up, lightening his grip as he coasted it along the underside of the head. In his mind, his mouth moved from her breasts to her navel, kissing a path to her hips, bucking up to meet his lips. He pressed his arm over her stomach to pin her down, moving his mouth over her wet folds, hovering as he took in her heady scent. Steve hissed as he bucked his hips faster into his own hand, the heat coiling low in his stomach as the pleasure built. He imagined tasting her, sinking his tongue deep inside her while she screamed for him. He brought his tongue to circle her swollen clit and plunged his fingers inside her. She arched into his touch, fucking herself on his fingers as she chanted his name and Steve gasped, reaching down to tug at his balls, drawn tight to his body. He was close now, her name falling from his mouth in the quiet of his bedroom, his cock steadily leaking pre-come so that the movement of his hand was slick and fast. He tightened his grip, chasing his orgasm desperately as the Y/N in his mind quickly approached hers. He came hard, long ropes of white painting his sweat-covered chest and stomach, his eyes snapping open at the onslaught of sensation. It took several minutes for him to come down, for his breathing to regulate and for the remnants of his fantasy to dispel. 

He stared down at the mess he’d made and despite the physical relief he felt, he was plagued with guilt and disgust at himself. He sat up slowly and walked into his bathroom to clean himself up. He caught his own reflection in the mirror above his sink, his skin still slightly flushed, his hair sticking up in the back from where he’d pressed his head into his pillow in ecstasy. He looked thoroughly wrecked. Something has to give; Steve thought as he turned on the shower and climbed in. The heat of the water washed over him and strengthened his resolve. Today would be the day. He was going to tell Y/N the truth.


	2. Truth and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has finally had enough of hiding his feelings and works up the courage to confess his love for Y/N. But, Y/N has something of her own to confess that may change Steve’s mind…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to write very foul-mouthed Bucky Barnes. I just think dude has been through way too much not to cuss, y’know? Also, poor Stevie. His love life is one complication after another…

Steve found Y/N sitting on the common room couch when he finally emerged from his bedroom, freshly showered and finally sexually unburdened. He walked around the couch and sat down. Y/N looked up at him, her eyes bright and her smile wide. Steve cursed himself mentally at the way his heart rate sped up in reaction. Get it together, Rogers. 

He took a seat beside her and pretended to watch the television with her for several quiet minutes. From what he could tell the show was about Sherlock Holmes, but it seemed much more intense than the stories he’d read. His brow furrowed as he tried to follow the action in the show until he heard her giggle beside him and turned his head to look at her. 

“What?”

She giggled again and the sound did nothing for his overwrought nerves. “You look confused.”

“I—isn’t that the actor you’re always talking about? Barnaby Cucumber?”

Y/N burst into peals of laughter, rolling into Steve’s side. Steve smiled, unsure of what he’d said that was so funny but pleased that he’d elicited such a happy response. He waited for her to calm down, little bursts of laughter still escaping her lips as she caught her breath.

“Benedict Cumberbatch, Steve!” she gasped. “And yes, yes it is.” 

Y/N’s hair had fallen across her face during her laughing fit and Steve reached a hand out to brush her hair behind her ear. The gesture made her quiet, her gaze focusing on Steve’s face. Steve swallowed hard and opened his mouth at the same time she did.

“I need to talk to you about something!” they both said in unison. Y/N laughed nervously. “You first,” she said. 

“No, you,” Steve countered. “Please.”

Y/N sighed, turning her body to face him. She sat cross-legged, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She was legitimately nervous about something, which was new for her. She was usually unabashedly confident about everything. Steve waited, his brain doing acrobatic flips around any conceivable scenarios for what she could possibly be about to say. What if she was going to confess her feelings for him? It would simplify his own confession, at least. His mind wandered, considering the options. How they would kiss, both finally divested of the secret they’d been keeping, and he would pull her into his arms and nuzzle his face into her neck and she would murmur into his ear about how long she’d wanted this and he would lay her back against the couch cushions and pull her hoodie up over her head and—

“Steve?”

Steve blinked and refocused his eyes on Y/N’s face. He silently fumed at his own overactive imagination and shifted slightly on the couch to ease the sudden tension in his jeans.

“Yeah?” he said, feigning nonchalance. Y/N quirked an eyebrow at him but thankfully said nothing about his strange behavior. 

“Well, I’ve been thinking about asking you something for a while but I couldn’t seem to find the right moment and lately you’ve been kind of missing in action a lot—,” Y/N said, looking down at her hands. 

“—I’ve been busy,” Steve interjected quickly. Y/N shot a look at him, half understanding, half confusion. 

“No, I know, Steve,” she said gently. “I’m not blaming you. But I guess now is as good a time as any to finally come clean about this.”

Steve’s throat constricted and he nodded weakly. This was it, he thought. She’s going to tell me she has feelings for me. This is actually going to happen. Maybe Bucky was right, maybe it’s time for me to chase my own happiness for a –

“I want to ask Bucky on a date.”

Steve felt as if he’d crashed into the Arctic again. His limbs felt heavy and his face was frozen in a stupid smile that he couldn’t seem to rearrange. He was well aware that Y/N was staring at him, waiting for a response, but he couldn’t form words or sentences for that matter. Her words played on a loop in his brain. I want to ask Bucky on a date. I want to ask Bucky on a date. Suddenly, all his fantasies turned sour in his mind, his role replaced by Bucky. Bucky’s hands on her skin, Bucky’s mouth on her mouth, Bucky’s name on her lips—

Steve shook his head, physically trying to erase the images flooding his mind.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

Steve stood abruptly, startling Y/N. He walked around the couch to the kitchen, needing to do something with his hands. He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and set it on the counter, then placed it back in the fridge. Y/N watched him, bewildered by his erratic behavior. It wasn’t like Steve to get flustered. 

“Steve? If you think it’s a bad idea, you can tell me,” she said, standing up and walking over to him. For a moment, she was almost positive she saw him flinch as she approached but she thought she must have imagined it. “I thought I would talk to you first because you know Bucky better than anyone and you would know if he was ready to date.”

Steve furrowed his brow, still trying to focus his thoughts. “Ready to date?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said sheepishly. “He hasn’t really shown interest in anyone since the feud with Tony ended and I wondered if that was because he wasn’t interested in anyone or if he was still working through some Winter Soldier stuff? I didn’t want to push if he wasn’t ready.”

“You like Bucky?” Steve blurted, his tone more accusatory than he intended it to come out. 

Y/N blushed bright red. “I…um…yeah, a bit,” she stuttered. Steve felt his heart sink into his stomach. 

He could discourage Y/N from pursuing Bucky. She was asking his opinion after all. He could still confess his own feelings, but that would only make things harder on her now. What happened next was in his hands, but all he could see was Y/N’s hopeful expression as she waited for Steve’s verdict. She genuinely liked his best friend and despite the gnawing pain in his chest, he knew he couldn’t stand in the way of that. Nor could he stand in the way of Bucky being happy with Y/N, if that was the way it was meant to be. Bucky had never directly shown an interest in Y/N, but how could he not like her? She was beautiful, funny, smart, kind. She never treated Bucky or Steve like relics from another time, even in jest. She always had a smile for everyone, even when she felt like less than herself. She was a fierce fighter with a gentle soul. As far as Steve was concerned—and it seemed his concern was starting to mean less and less—Y/N was perfect. So how could he even dream of keeping that from his best friend?

“I think that’s great,” Steve finally said aloud. Y/N’s face broke into a smile that put cracks in Steve’s already-fragile heart but he smiled back. “Bucky’s a lucky guy.”

“So you think it would be okay for me to ask him to dinner? I know it’s a bit forward but it doesn’t have to be a date in the traditional sense, maybe just as friends first, you know? Do you think he’d be okay with that? Or maybe you could talk to him and see—”

Steve put a hand over her mouth to stop the flow of words for a moment. “I think he would love it if you asked him to dinner. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would turn down that offer.”

Steve removed his hand slowly, feeling as though the imprint of her lips on his skin was burned there. He flexed his hand before placing it back down on the counter. Y/N blinked up at him.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Okay. Thanks, Steve. Thank you for being so understanding.”

She took a step towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his lightly in a hug. The ache she left behind when she disconnected from him was more painful than anything he’d ever endured—super serum included. 

Y/N smiled at him one last time then turned and disappeared down the hall to the elevators, probably to find Bucky. Steve sank onto one of the kitchen stools and buried his face in his hands. He had thought his uncontrollable sexual urges had been the worst these feelings could do, but he had been wrong. The pain in his chest resembled the way he’d felt when he’d woken up from the ice to find out that he’d missed his chance with Peggy by seventy years. He felt helpless, out of control. It was not a comfortable place for him. He wanted to be angry, to feel betrayed but he couldn’t. Bucky had done nothing except be himself, a luxury he’d not been afforded for seventy-five years and how could Steve chastise him for that anyway? He wanted to be happy for his friend. For Y/N. He would be happy for them. He was not a slave to his emotions, he never had been. He was better than that. He would be a good friend to both of them because that’s what they needed. 

Steve stood up, squaring his shoulders. When he turned around, he found himself face to face with Bucky, who was striding towards him with a look of fury on his face. Steve sighed. No time like the present to be put his new resolution to the test. 

“Do you wanna tell me why Y/N just asked me out on a date, Rogers?” Bucky barked, stopping a few feet from Steve. 

Steve tried to keep his tone light and his expression impassive. 

“I’d wager because she likes you, Buck.”

“Don’t play coy with me, Steve. I know you had something to do with this. What I can’t make heads or tails of is why you would encourage this. I thought you were in love with her!” 

Steve looked down at the floor, unable to face Bucky’s glare when he spoke next. “She chose you, Buck. I wasn’t going to stand in the way of that.”

Steve was forced to look up when Bucky grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him roughly. 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Rogers? What do you mean she ‘chose me’?”

Steve pulled away from Bucky, turning back to the kitchen counter, staring at the patterns in the marble. “She asked me if I thought it would be okay for her to ask you out. Because she likes you. Because you’re what she wants.”

“And you said yes?”

Steve whirled back around. “Of course I did, Bucky. What was I supposed to say? She doesn’t belong to me—”

“—Because you wimped out again—”

“—Because I didn’t have a chance to tell her how I felt—”

“—You had eight fucking months—”

“—And now it’s too late!” Steve shouted, slamming his fist on the kitchen counter and cracking the marble. “Shit,” he muttered, tracing a finger along the fissure that had appeared. He turned back to Bucky, whose eyes were narrowed and glaring at him. 

“Whatever you decide to do now, it’s too late for me, Bucky. I’ll be fine. I’ll get over it. I’ve done it before. Can I ask a favor though?”

Bucky was silent, still glaring at Steve, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Steve sighed.

“Don’t say no on my account, okay? Y/N is a great girl and you’re lucky she likes you. And she’d be lucky to have you. Both of you are important to me and I want nothing but your happiness.”

Bucky let out a sound of disgust and uncrossed his arms. “You’re a sap, Rogers. And an idiot.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I know.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulder as he walked past him. “I’m gonna go work out. Need to let off some steam. I’ll see you around, Buck.”

Steve left and Bucky let out a huff of exasperation, placing his hands on the cracked countertop and leaning forward. Steve and self-sacrifice were a match made in purgatory, he thought. The kid didn’t know how to get out of his own head. An idea occurred to Bucky in that moment, an idea that had him standing up straight and walking down the hallway that led to Y/N’s room. If Steve wasn’t going to fight for what he wanted, then Bucky would.

He nudged Y/N’s bedroom door opened, knocking as he did so. 

“Yeah?” came the reply on the other side. 

Bucky stepped into the room, hands in his pockets. Y/N was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her laptop sitting open in front of her. She looked up at him and smiled. Jesus, Bucky thought. No wonder Steve’s crazy about her. 

“Hey, doll. About that dinner thing you asked me about earlier,” Bucky said. Y/N’s eyes lit up and her back straightened at his words. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m in,” Bucky said with a grin. “How’s tomorrow night at eight sound?”


	3. Truth and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has specific plans for his date with Y/N that don’t exactly go the way he intended. His actions make something very clear to Y/N, but it’s not the revelation he’s hoping she’ll have…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one part left after this. Have hope, there will be smut in the next part. But things are gonna get crazy first

Bucky stood outside Bamonte’s Restaurant and checked his watch for the third time since he’d arrived ten minutes ago. He wasn’t sure why he was so jittery, except that he hadn’t actually been on a date in seventy-five years and had no idea how this evening was going to play out. He straightened the dark blue tie Wanda had insisted he wear and smoothed his flesh hand down its length nervously. Y/N was late. They had agreed to meet at Bamonte’s (her choice) at eight and it was now eight-fifteen. Natasha had warned him not to be early but Bucky had ignored her. He’d always been on time to his dates in the forties and his punctuality had never once failed him.

“Bucky!”

Bucky’s head snapped up at the sound of his name. Y/N was walking towards him, her beige trench coat open, revealing a short, flared blue dress the same color as Bucky’s tie. Bucky cursed Wanda silently in his head. He lifted a hand in the air and waved. Y/N reached him quickly and smiled and Bucky had to chide himself at the sudden uptick in his heart rate when she did. She’s a good-looking dame, Barnes. Get over it. We’re on a mission here.

“Shall we go in?” Y/N asked, looking past Bucky at the restaurant windows. Bucky nodded and turned, letting Y/N go first. He pulled the door open for her, wondering vaguely if she thought he was being sexist. Natasha and Wanda had spent a great deal of time schooling him on the changes in gender roles in this century and how certain things that were acceptable in the forties were now considered misogynistic. He shook the thought from his head, thinking that he really needed to spend less time listening to Natasha and Wanda.

Bucky gave his name to the hostess who nodded and walked them to their table near the back of the dining room. He helped Y/N out of her coat and handed it to the hostess to hang up. They sat down and Bucky cleared his throat. Game time, Barnes.

“So,” Bucky said, but it came out louder and more abrasive than he meant and Y/N looked at him quizzically. “Sorry,” he muttered, “how are you?”

“Good. Hungry,” Y/N said, picking up her menu and looking it over. “I was really in the mood for Italian—,”

“—You know what’s funny?” Bucky interrupted.

“Um, no. What’s funny?”

“Steve said the exact same thing to me the other day.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Said what?”

“That he was in the mood for Italian food. He’d probably love this place. Reminds me of a place we used to come to in this neighborhood back in the day.”

Bucky realized he probably sounded crazy but the goal of the evening was to make Steve the primary topic of conversation. If he could show Y/N how compatible she was with Steve then she’d fall in love with him for sure. At least, that was what Bucky was hoping for.

“Well, Bamonte’s has been open since before the forties, so maybe it’s the same place?”

Bucky bit his lip. “Yeah, maybe.”

Y/N’s eyes went back to scanning her menu. “I think I might order some wine. Will you have some with me?”

“Steve hates wine,” Bucky blurted. Y/N blinked, her expression confused then nodded.

“Yeah, I know. He prefers beer.”

“Yeah…,” Bucky stared blankly at his menu for a moment.

“So, wine? Yes or no?”

Bucky looked back up at Y/N. If this was going to work, he needed to be subtler. He cleared his throat again and nodded. “Sure, wine sounds good.”

Y/N hailed down the waiter and ordered a bottle of red wine and an appetizer of prosciutto and melon. The next ten minutes passed amicably, Bucky and Y/N exchanging opinions on menu items (Bucky only brought Steve up once when Y/N mentioned the parmigiana—it was his favorite Italian dish) and finally placing their orders. The silence that followed the absence of the waiter was a bit awkward. Bucky sipped his wine, then set it down, realizing he wasn’t any fonder of it than Steve. He went through the Rolodex of Steve-facts he’d stored away in his mind for the evening.

“Did Steve ever tell you the story of the time I made him ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?”

Y/N smiled gently. “I don’t know. Did he throw up at the end of the story?”

Bucky laughed. “Okay, I guess you’ve heard it. To be fair, a lot of Steve’s pre-Cap stories end with him throwing up.”

Y/N laughed at that. “Poor baby. I’m sure you exploited that fact often.”

Bucky held his hands up in mock innocence. “Hey, it’s not my fault the kid couldn’t hold his milkshakes. Or hot dogs. Or any other dairy or carb-based foods.”

“I’d bet he found lots of ways to make you pay for that when he got super-soldiered,” Y/N joked. Bucky smiled but her words brought back the memory of the zip line and the snow and mountains and a speeding train and –

“Bucky? Are you alright?”

Bucky’s eyes zeroed in on Y/N and he nodded. He picked up his water glass and downed it. He was suddenly covered in a light sheen of sweat. He excused himself and found the bathrooms, which were mercifully empty. It took him several minutes to reconfigure himself. He patted his forehead and neck down with wet paper towels and straightened his tie again. So far this evening was going swimmingly, he thought. He steeled himself and walked back to the table, where the waiter was already dropping off their food. Thank God, Bucky thought miserably. At least I’ll have something else to put in my mouth besides my foot.

Bucky took his seat and Y/N shot him a soft smile. I really wish she’d stop doing that, Bucky thought sullenly, his overactive heart rate spiking again.

“Everything okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, just, um…you know—”

“—Winter Soldier stuff?” Y/N said in a low voice. Bucky winced.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Bucky—,” Y/N began but Bucky stopped her.

“We should order something to take back to Steve, dontcha think?”

Y/N bit her lip, staring at him as if she had something terribly important to say but seemed to think better of it. She nodded mutely and began eating her chicken cacciatore in silence. Bucky stared at his plate, realizing very suddenly that he wasn’t hungry at all. He should never have accepted this date. He’d had all the best intentions. He’d thought it would be easy to nudge Y/N in Steve’s direction, make her see what was right in front of her. But all he’d done tonight was make a fool of himself and led an innocent girl on. He felt like he should apologize, explain himself but the damage was done and telling Y/N that he’d only accepted the date to hook her up with Steve would only infuriate her—and Steve.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. Neither said much after Bucky and Y/N decided on the chicken parmigiana to take home to Steve. Bucky paid the bill and helped Y/N back into her coat. They took a cab back to the compound together, barely speaking during the ride. Y/N fiddled with the straps of her purse and Bucky stared resolutely out the window, berating himself for most of the ride.

Back at the compound, Y/N held the takeout bag with Steve’s food out to Bucky. Bucky looked at it, confused.

“It’s for Steve,” he said. Y/N nodded.

“I know. You should take it to him. He’ll be really happy.”

“No!” Bucky said, once again using a tone much louder than he meant to. “It’ll mean more coming from you.”

Y/N quirked her head at him, then shrugged. “Okay. Thanks for coming out with me, Bucky. It was…nice.”

Bucky smiled grimly. “Sure, Y/N.” He leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. He watched her walk away, towards Steve’s room, hoping that maybe a miracle would happen over parmigiana. He wasn’t holding his breath.

The knock on Steve’s door startled him. He looked up from the sketchbook on his desk, brow furrowed, and wiped his charcoal-covered hands on his sweatpants.

“Who is it?” he called, gathering the stray sheets of sketch paper scattered around his desk and stacking them inside the sketchbook.

“Y/N.”

Steve’s heart ramped up and he shot another look at the half-finished sketch on his desk. “Just a minute!” Steve shoved the sheets of paper and the sketchbook under his pillow, then covered the pillow with his comforter. He checked his hands again, more carefully this time, for charcoal markings, smoothed his hair back and opened the door.

Y/N was still in her blue dress, the one she’d worn tonight for her date with Bucky. Steve had watched her leave her room, makeup and hair done, smoothing the dress over her hips, twirling for a beaming Wanda and Natasha. His dick had twitched half-heartedly in his jeans, the weight in his heart making it difficult for him to feel anything past miserable. But he’d smiled at her as she’d left and wished her luck. He’d retreated to his room where he’d been for the majority of the evening. It wasn’t like him to wallow but he found he had little energy for anything else and he didn’t trust himself around the others. He hadn’t expected to hear from anyone, least of all Y/N.

“Can I come in?” she asked meekly and it was only then that Steve noticed the look of pure dejection on her face. He stood aside and she walked into his room and plopped onto the edge of his bed. She was holding what looked like a takeout bag from a restaurant.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, strategically seating himself at his desk. She held out the takeout bag and he took it. “What’s this?”

“The food Bucky insisted we get for you.”

“What?” Steve opened the bag. A large plastic container stuffed with spaghetti and sauce sat on top. “Spaghetti?”

“It’s parmigiana,” she corrected, laying back on Steve’s comforter, still in her coat. She had one arm over eyes, the other still laying by her side. Steve frowned, still confused.

“Why did Bucky insist on bringing me food?”

“Because it’s your favorite!” Y/N snapped, sitting up straight and glaring at him. He was unsure how his favorite food could make her look so angry but he didn’t question it.

“Uh, tell him I said thank you?” Steve said hesitantly.

“Tell him yourself!” Y/N barked, standing up abruptly. “I don’t get why he agreed to the date in the first place. It’s obvious he’s hung up on someone else.”

Steve’s frown deepened. “He is? Who?”

“YOU, Steven!” Y/N cried, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “He couldn’t talk about anything but you all night. At first I thought he was just nervous and you’re an easy topic for him but he kept going and I realized he could hardly help himself. Bucky Barnes is in love with you!”

Steve stared at Y/N as though she’d lost her mind. That could be the only explanation for what she was saying. Bucky? In love with Steve? It was completely nuts. Bucky was Steve’s best friend, his oldest (in every sense of the word) friend. Bucky was like his brother. Sure, he’d always been there when Steve needed him and sure, only Steve’s reminding him of that friendship had been enough to break through HYDRA’s grasp on Bucky, but that didn’t mean—couldn’t mean—

Was Bucky actually in love with Steve?


	4. Truth and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secrets are all out! Will Steve and Y/N end up together? Will Bucky admit to being in love with his best friend? Will Steve finally have sex? Find out below!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Truth & Consequence! (or is it…?). I may write an epilogue later on but this is the end for now. It’s a fluffy end, but there’s plenty of smut and confusion and drama in this installment too! Thank you so much to all of you who have read, and liked, and commented on this fic. I have felt the love in abundance. Y’all rock ♥♥♥

“Bucky Barnes is in love with you!”

It had been four days since Y/N had come back from her date with Bucky and proclaimed that the former Winter Soldier was in love with Steve Rogers. Steve had dismissed the idea straight out of the gate, telling Y/N that though he and Bucky were incredibly close, they were not, nor had they ever been, that close.

“Call it what you like, Steve,” Y/N had said as she left his bedroom. “Bucky couldn’t stop talking about you. It was like a compulsion. You need to talk to him.”

Steve hadn’t talked to Bucky since the date, mostly because their paths hadn’t crossed but also because Steve wasn’t keen to initiate a conversation that might lead to Y/N’s misguided revelation. Unfortunately, Steve’s recent habit of avoiding his problems had become increasingly less effective and he found himself facing both Y/N and Bucky in the dining room one evening while Wanda and Vision made the group dinner.

Bucky nodded silently at Steve when he entered the room and Y/N turned to follow his gaze, her eyes narrowing when she caught sight of him. Steve frowned back at her and shook his head minutely but Y/N seemed intent on forcing a conversation she was sure needed to happen. Steve watched her lean towards Bucky and whisper something in his ear. Bucky lifted his head and looked at Steve questioningly, then stood from his seat at the counter and walked over to him.

“Y/N said you wanted to talk?” he said quietly and Steve clenched his jaw in annoyance. Y/N was looking at him pointedly and he knew there would be no escaping this conversation now. He nodded tersely at Bucky and led him away from the ears of their teammates.

“What is it, Steve?” Bucky asked when Steve stopped in the hall furthest from the dining area.

“Y/N told me about your date,” Steve said, not bothering with any preamble. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it quickly, like pulling off a bandage.

Bucky’s eyes widened, in what looked like an expression of fear. Steve hesitated at the look on his face, then pressed forward.

“She believes you took her out under false pretenses.”

Bucky opened his mouth then closed it. There was an unmistakable look of panic in his eyes now and Steve began to wonder if perhaps Y/N had been right. Was Bucky scared that Steve had uncovered his secret?

“Bucky?” Steve prodded. “Are you okay?”

“I did it for you, Steve I swear!” Bucky blurted, holding his hands out in a plea. “I had good intentions, I really did. I don’t know what happened. It just—it got out of hand. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted you to be happy for a change. To have something good.”

“Buck, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you being in love with me, Bucky!”

“WHAT?”

Bucky gaped at Steve, looking a bit like a fish out of water, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Steve swallowed hard.

“Y/N told me you couldn’t talk about anything but me that night. That is was your idea to bring me home food. That it was like you were compelled to bring me up at any chance. S-she thought—thinks—it’s because you’re in love with me.”  
Bucky simply stared at him, speechless. He couldn’t form words, his brain still slogging through the sentence Steve had just uttered. After a few moments, he regrouped and spoke.

“Steve,” Bucky spoke slowly, trying his best not raise his voice. “I am not in love with you. You’re like my brother and I do—,” Bucky paused and took a deep breath, “love you, but like family. I’d take a bullet for you but not necessarily your dick in my ass.”

Steve flushed a bright pink. “Jesus, Bucky!”

“Y/N,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “She thought I was talking you up because I wanted you.”

Steve cocked his head inquisitively. “Why were you talking me up on your date?”

Bucky sighed. “Because I thought if I made you sound as great as you are, she’d see it too and want to date you.”

Steve frowned then laughed. “You are in love with me, Buck.”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky snapped, which only made Steve laugh harder. “I was trying to get you laid.”

“Excuse me?”

Bucky and Steve turned, twin looks of horror on their faces. Y/N was standing at the end of the hallway, staring at both of them with a look of pure rage on her pretty features.

“Y/N! I didn’t—what I meant was—it’s not what it sounded like,” Bucky stammered, holding his hands out.

“It sounds like you led me on to get me to sleep with Steve, James,” Y/N said through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing dangerously. Steve winced at her words.

“Y/N,” he said gently, taking a step towards her. “Please let us explain.”

“Don’t come near me. Either of you. Ever again.” Y/N turned on heel and stalked away, leaving Bucky and Steve standing speechless in the hallway.  
________________________________________  
Several days passed and Y/N made good on her word of not wanting either Bucky or Steve near her. She avoided them at all costs, despite Bucky’s attempts to corner her. Steve kept away, his guilt and embarrassment stopping him from approaching her. After a week of painful silence, Natasha stopped Steve on the way to the training rooms.

“Where are you going?” Natasha reached out to place a hand on his shoulder.

“The training room. Why?”

“You need to go talk to Y/N, Steve.”

Steve grimaced, pulling away from Natasha’s touch. “She made it pretty clear she didn’t want anything to do with Bucky or me and I don’t blame her.”

“She was angry, Steve. She had a right to be. But it’s been a week of silence, not counting the eight months you’ve been secretly pining for her. If you had told her how you felt from the start, none of this would’ve happened. So go tell her.”

Steve gaped at Natasha. “You knew?”

“God, Steve,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “Everyone knew. Even Banner knew and he’s never here. The only person who didn’t know was the one person who should have. So go fix that. Now.”  
Natasha pushed him in the opposite direction, toward the elevators. Steve thought about arguing, but arguing with Natasha about anything was pointless and for once, he agreed with her. This had gone on long enough. Whatever happened now, the truth was worth the consequence.

Y/N’s door was closed when he reached it and he hesitated, his mind conjuring reasons not to knock. He steeled himself anyway, raised one fist and rapped on the door.

“Natasha, I told you I’m fine, you don’t have to check on me every five min—,” Y/N stopped dead as she threw open the door and found herself face-to-face with Steve. She narrowed her eyes.

“You’re not Natasha.”

“Not today,” he joked lamely. Y/N’s expression did not budge. Steve sighed.

“Can we talk, please?”

“I have nothing to say to you, Steve.”

“Fine,” he said with more confidence than he felt. “Then you can listen to me talk.”

He walked into the bedroom, past Y/N. Her room was in shambles. The bed was unmade and there was a box of tissues thrown on the comforter. Her laptop sat at the foot of the bed. It occurred to Steve, his eyes on the tissues littered around the room, that she had been crying, and a pang of guilt hit him hard in the gut. He turned to look at her, still standing by the door, watching him warily.

“Y/N, please. I know I’ve been an idiot, but we’ve been friends for a long time. Please come here.”

“Friends?” Y/N retorted, shutting the door and walking past him. “Friends don’t keep secrets from each other, Steve. Friends don’t let friends go on dates with people that aren’t actually interested in them—”

“I was trying to be supportive!” Steve said defensively. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Tell me the truth, Steven!” Y/N shouted, throwing her hands in the air. “You should have told me when you realized. Then I wouldn’t have wasted my time with Bucky. I would’ve—we could’ve—all of this could’ve been avoided if you’d trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”

“I—,” Steve frowned. “You know?”

“That you’ve been in love with me for months and that Bucky took me out to try to sell me on the idea of dating Captain America? Yeah, Steve. I figured it out. I’m no Tony Stark, but I can work some things out for myself.”

Steve groaned and sunk on the edge of her bed, face in his hands. Y/N didn’t move except to cross her arms over her chest. Steve lifted his head to look at her.

“If you already know, why haven’t you spoken to me for a week?”

“Because it should have come from you! I made a fool out of myself, asking Bucky out and then thinking he was in love with you because I was the only one who didn’t know. I was—am—so mad at you.” Y/N uncrossed her arms and went to sit beside Steve. She  
stared down at her shoes as she spoke next.

“Was mad at you,” she muttered. “I wanted to be angry with you for longer, but I can’t. I just can’t believe we—you—wasted so much time.”

Steve stared at her, his brain processing her words. “Wasted time?” he repeated.

Y/N met his gaze. “I never thought in a million years I had a chance with you. So I put it out of my head. I was content just being friends if that’s all I could have. And Bucky’s great and considerably less intimidating than Captain America and I just never let  
myself think we could be anything more.”

“You had feelings for me too?”

Y/N blushed and bit her lip. “Yes.”

Steve stood up abruptly. “Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I just told you why! I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and I didn’t think I had a chance anyway.”

“Well, what if I had the same reason for not telling you?”

“Did you?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at her, then turned away. “No. Not exactly. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to dedicate the time you deserved to a relationship. Being Captain America is a full-time job and it’s not easy to deal with those repercussions. I didn’t want to put that on you.”

Y/N was suddenly standing behind him, her hand on his arm. Steve turned again to face her. Her expression was soft and it warmed him straight through. His fingers itched to touch her but he kept his hands at his sides.

“You think I’d be mad at you for being Captain America?” she murmured, her hand reaching up to touch the side of his face. Steve keened into her touch, turning his head to press his lips to her hand lightly.

“Not right away. Eventually, maybe.”

“Steve.”

Steve met her gaze. There was a fire there that had nothing to do with anger. It sparked something in the pit of his stomach and the yearning to touch her became almost too hard to ignore. He slid his arms around her waist, her warmth seeping through her thin shirt.

“Yeah?”

“I could never blame you or be mad at you for being who you are. And I would never ask you to choose between me and the shield. Besides, don’t you think the way we feel about each other is worth the risk anyway?”

Steve smiled down at her. “I do now.”

“Good,” Y/N said, standing on tiptoes to brush her lips against his. “Me too.”

Steve pressed his mouth to hers, the fire that had settled in his stomach spreading through his veins at the taste of her. He groaned quietly when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, his hands tightening around her waist. He maneuvered them towards the bed so they could sit and she took the opportunity to attack his neck with kisses. He laughed as she crawled into his lap, a sound she cut short by sinking her teeth into his skin. He growled low in his throat, placing his hands on the small of her back to push her forward into him.

“This is even better than I imagined,” he gasped as she started to unbutton his shirt. She stopped at his words, leaning back to look at him.

“You imagined this?” she asked mischievously and Steve smiled shyly.

“Sort of. I imagined a lot of things.”

The light in her eyes danced with mischief. “Like what?”

“Y/N, it’s really not that impor—,” Steve started but stopped when she rolled her hips against his, creating friction against his burgeoning erection and making him hiss.

“Tell me, Steve or that’s the most you’ll get out of me.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed and suddenly it was Captain America sitting beneath her and not Steve Rogers. She squeaked as he gathered her up against him and flipped her down onto the mattress, crawling her up the bed until her head hit the pillows.

“How ‘bout I show you?” he growled against her skin and all she could manage was a high pitched, “please” before he was divesting her of her shirt and shorts. He scooted back down, hooking his fingers into her panties and pulling them down, following them with slow, gentle kisses on her hips and thighs. She moaned and writhed until he quirked one eyebrow at her.

“Hold still or I’ll make you hold still.”

She nodded, biting her lip and Steve spread her legs with the nudge of his hand. This was better than any fantasy he had concocted. The scent of her desire assaulting his senses, her body warm and enticingly close. He licked his lips at the sight of her wet core, her hips rolling ever so slightly, seeking his mouth. He leaned in and flicked his tongue at her clit and the sound she made nearly unhinged him. He took a deep breath then tried again, this time with a longer swipe of his tongue.

“Steve, ohmygod, fuck,” she whimpered above him. He grinned and sunk one finger into her, her abundant wetness easing the way. He pressed his tongue flat against her clit and she bucked her hips into him. He pinned her with one hand and fucked her with the other, alternating between sucking her clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, teasing her without reprieve. He sunk another finger deep inside her, crooking his fingers together to hit her g-spot. She screamed with pleasure, her orgasm hitting her like a train. Steve kept her pinned as it washed over her, licking her through it until she came down. She tasted incredible and he was fairly sure he’d never get enough of her.  
When her hips had stilled, Steve moved back up to her, licking his lips clean of her. She blushed at him and he smirked proudly.

“Did that clear it up for you?”

Her blush disappeared and she pulled him down to her by his shirt. “Is that all you imagined, Captain?”

Steve’s cock twitched in his jeans and he was suddenly desperate to free it. He undid the buckle on his belt but Y/N’s hand covered his.

“Let me. Please?” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Steve swallowed hard and nodded. She rubbed her palm against the hard-on straining his zipper and he leaned his head back and groaned. She removed his belt and undid the button and zipper, reaching her hand in to relieve some of his tension through his boxer briefs. Steve bucked his hips into her hand, cursing under his breath at the feeling.

“Is that good, honey? Does that feel good?” Y/N murmured, leaning in to press her lips to his neck. Steve nodded frantically and pushed his jeans down.

“More,” he pleaded in a hoarse voice. “Please, I need more.”

“You’re so impatient,” she giggled but she slid her hand under the waistband of his underwear and found his cock, leaking copious amounts of pre-come. She bit her lip as she felt his size and girth. The thought of him inside her was intimidating but it also made her even wetter than she’d been before.

She pulled his briefs down and away. Steve watched her, eyes blown black with lust. She wrapped her hand around him and leaned forward, lapping up the pre-come that had gathered at his tip. He jerked at the contact, hips rolling almost involuntarily, sliding the head of his cock into her mouth. She moaned around him and the vibrations had him fisting his hand in her hair, holding her head steady as he fucked into her mouth slowly.

“Shit, babygirl,” he hissed as she swirled her tongue around the head and sucked him deep into her mouth. She hummed happily, her hands gripping his ass and urging him forward until his cock hit the back of her throat. She hummed again and Steve pulled her off of him with an obscene pop.

“Don’t wanna come, yet,” he murmured. “Need to be inside you.”

She smiled up at him and laid back against the pillows but Steve shook his head.

“One more fantasy?” he asked, crawling towards her and pulling her to sit on his lap. She nodded, running her hands down the bare expanse of his chest.

“However many you want, Captain.”

Steve sighed as she settled over him, raising herself up enough to position the head of his cock at her entrance before sinking back down slowly, moaning as he went in. Steve steadied her with his hands on her hips, his mouth slightly open as she moved, low gasps slipping out as she covered more of him with her body. It took several seconds, but she finally got him fully seated inside her, bracing herself with her hands on his chest. She breathed carefully through her nose, letting herself adjust to his size.

“Baby?” Steve said softly, stroking her hips with his fingers. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she rasped. “You’re so big.” She felt him twitch inside her when she spoke and she smirked at him. “You like that? You like knowing you’re filling me up?”

She rocked her hips forward slightly and he groaned. “God, yes,” he sighed. “C’mon babygirl, let me feel you.”

Y/N started to move, rolling her hips, lifting herself up and then sinking back down onto him. Steve groaned and cursed, uttering praises and invoking God and all his angels as she moved on top of him. He planted his feet on the bed, thrusting his hips up into her and she cried out, leaning forward and using his chest as leverage. They moved together seamlessly, Steve’s hands spreading across her torso, cupping her bouncing breasts as he fucked himself into her. Every nerve ending in his body was alight, the heat spreading rapidly and he could tell she was getting close by the sound of his name on her lips, gasped out in higher and higher pitches. He sat up, placing one hand on her back and flipping her so that she was beneath him, never leaving her body.  
He placed both hands on either side of her head and continued his thrusts, setting a punishing pace that set her blood on fire. He reached between them and pressed two fingers to her sensitive bud.

“Come for me, babygirl. I’m right behind you,” Steve groaned, his face pressed into the side of her neck, hips stuttering as he neared his peak. Y/N swore under her breath and he felt her orgasm this time, her walls clenching powerfully around him and milking his release from him. He had never felt anything so intense, so consuming, the jolts of electricity lighting along his veins as the wave of pleasure washed over him. Her nails were digging into the skin of his back and he knew there would be marks later, if only  
for a little while, and the thought sent one last ripple of satisfaction through his body.

They lay together like that as their breathing returned to normal, his lips pressed lazily to her neck, her hands stroking circles into the skin of his back. Neither spoke or felt the need to move, wanting simply to soak in each other’s presence. Eventually, Steve lifted himself off of her and rolled to the side, pulling her with him so that there was never any space between them.

“You’re so clingy,” she murmured playfully against his lips as he kissed her.

“I’ve spent eight months dreaming about this,” Steve said, pulling the comforter up to cover them both. “I’m not in any rush for it to be over.”

“It can’t be over, silly,” Y/N ran her fingers through Steve’s mussed hair and he closed his eyes to the touch. He felt at peace for the first time in weeks, his body finally satisfied, his heart finally full. She smiled up at him as she spoke. “It’s only just beginning.”


End file.
